


The Long Winter

by 27dragons, tisfan



Series: Tales from the Communal Kitchen (the ex-assassins files) [18]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Coitus Interruptus, M/M, Porn with Feelings, a lot of coitus interruptus, parenting is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Even Tony Stark knows that parenting is supposed to be hard...He didn't realize it was going to be quitethishard.Or, that week where Bucky and Tony spend all their time sneaking around the Tower trying to find a few minutes of privacy...





	The Long Winter

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt that showed up in my tumblr inbox...
> 
> Hope I'm hitting up the right author here - for the Communal kitchen verse, can I request a fic where (since they have many children now) bucky and tony are constantly interrupted trying to have teh smexy times?

The meeting broke up early.

Tony didn’t get to say that very often; in his experience, meetings tended to run over schedule, rather than under. But this meeting broke early, which meant Tony had _two_ whole hours for lunch before he had to be at some investor presentation on pain of having one of Pepper’s shoes shoved up his ass.

There were other, much more pleasant things to do with his ass in the two hours he had, so rather than fuck around with traffic, he left Happy to bring the car home and took the armor instead. He called Bucky as he took flight. “Hey babe, guess what? Meeting’s out early. You free for an early lunch? Or... _lunch_?” Best to be at least a little subtle; these days, Tony never quite knew when an impressionable minor would be listening in.

“Oh, I think I can bring you a little somethin’,” Bucky responded. “Managed t’ get Sasha to eat and he’s _actually napping_.” There was a hasty scrambling noise before JARVIS cut the connection.

Tony didn’t bother with the doors or the elevator, either. They’d barely had time for a parting kiss that morning before Tony had to leave for his meeting, and Tony wanted to make the most of every second of his unexpectedly long lunch break. He did one acrobatic swoop around the penthouse, because it was fun (and because he was pretty sure Bucky would already be watching) and then dropped onto the landing gantry and let the automated system strip the armor off. It needed to be cleaned and checked for wear, anyway.

And if he put a little extra strut into his step, well, that was his own business, and his husband’s.

Bucky was leaning against the wall, partially hidden in the shadows, arms crossed casually over his chest. “Ain’t you a sight?” He stepped into the light, the thin tank he was wearing still damp with sweat and his tight workout shorts clinging to his thighs. He let the corner of his mouth twitch up into a grin. “Wasn’t expectin’ to see you til dinner.”

“I wasn’t, either,” Tony agreed. He stepped out of the boots, the last of the removal rig folding away, and another two steps brought him within touching distance of Bucky. “Guess I just got lucky.” He dragged a fingertip down Bucky’s arm. “Your turn to get lucky?”

Bucky caught Tony’s fingers, turned his hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss Tony’s palm. “With you, always,” he said. He sucked Tony’s index finger into his mouth, teasing, watching Tony’s face intently as he did so. When Tony’s eyes went half-lidded, he let go, tugging Tony in for a kiss.

Tony melted easily into it, hot and eager already. He slipped one hand under Bucky’s workout tank, dragging the calluses of his fingers across the skin at the base of Bucky’s spine, teasing at the elastic of those shorts. “Probably we should take this inside before another news ‘copter catches us out here,” he said when Bucky let him come up for air.

Bucky ran his hands down Tony’s back, took a long, lingering caress of Tony’s ass through the flight suit. “Let ‘em watch,” he said roughly, then shook his head. “Prob’ly right, though. Stevie’d have our heads on th’ table if we’re in the tabloids.” He didn’t take his hand off Tony’s backside, though, even when they turned to go into the penthouse.

They were barely through the polarized glass doors before Tony started stripping off the flight suit. He’d redesigned it for easier egress after the first few Bucky had ruined with eagerness, but it still took longer than he’d like. He kept his eyes on Bucky, though, wondering if he’d ever be tired of that view. It didn’t seem like it.

Bucky peeled out of his clothes in seconds and was already tugging on the autozips that ran down the side of Tony’s leg, pressing open-mouthed kisses on each inch of exposed skin, dropping into a squat. He lingered, fingers sweeping down Tony’s thigh and then gazed up, eyelashes lowered. “Mmmm, hey there,” he said, tongue flicking out to wet his lower lip. “Got somethin’ for me, to whet my appetite?”  

Nope, Tony was never going to get tired of the way Bucky looked at him, hungry and predatory. Hnnng. “I bet I can find a little something for you to nibble on,” Tony promised, hoarse. He slipped his fingers into Bucky’s hair, curled the strands around them and pulled gently, watching Bucky’s expression.

Bucky ran his thumbs up the insides of Tony’s thighs, the flight suit still around his calves, too impatient to wait. He dropped a line of kisses over Tony’s belly, breath hot against Tony’s skin. “Mmmm, this is nice,” he said, voice low, almost like he was talking to himself. “Havin’ you home unexpected-like.” Bucky rubbed his cheek against Tony’s hip, then licked down the curve, making a beeline for Tony’s cock, already half-hard. “Gonna--” And his mouth closed, hot and wet and slick, over the head, tongue skating along the ridge. He pulled back “--enjoy this.”

“Good,” Tony managed. “Be worried if you-- _ohhhh_.” He lost the thread of his thought there, swimming in sensation. You’d think he’d get used to it, the things Bucky’s mouth could do. “Ohhh, yeah. I’m gonna enjoy it, too.”

The thud of preteen feet on the stairs was all the warning they got; Bucky jerked back with a bitten-off curse and Tony started frantically pulling the suit back into place. Bucky snatched up his discarded clothes and bolted for the nearest door -- the one that led back out onto the landing gantry. JARVIS politely shifted the polarity of the glass to hide Bucky just in time as Jaime came up into the penthouse.

“Dad? I thought you were in a meeting all day.”

“Several meetings, but one finished early,” Tony said, and he was pretty sure he even managed to sound mostly normal. “Did you need something?”

Bucky came back in the room, his tank stretched out a bit so the hem was brushing the tops of his thighs and his shorts were on inside out, but it probably wasn’t noticeable, as long as Jaime stayed on the other side of the room. He scraped one hand through his hair, the back of his neck red.

"Sasha needs a new coldcuff and the spares are all locked up," Jaime said.

Bucky stared at him. “You live in a building full of spies and superheroes. No one can pick a damn lock?”

Jaime’s eyes rounded. “You said we shouldn’t do that anymore,” he pointed out.

Bucky made a disgusted noise. “So, _now_ you’re listenin’ to me? Hell of a time…” He took a deep, steadying breath.

“I’ve got it,” Tony said, patting Bucky’s shoulder comfortingly. So much for Sasha’s nap -- if he needed a fresh cuff, that meant he was awake and in a seriously bad mood. “I’ll go get the cuff and see if I can talk some sense into the toddler. You... maybe get your shower or something.”

“Yeah, okay, right,” Bucky said, grumbling and pinching the bridge of his nose. “J? Start the shower?” He glanced over his shoulder at Tony, then added, “better make it cold, okay?”

***

“Come on, baby,” Bucky said, after Tony had almost fallen asleep into his chicken diane and green beans. A whole day’s worth of meetings -- not to mention Angry-toddler Sasha, seriously Bucky’s youngest had taken the terrible twos and run with them for the better part of three years now -- and Tony was visibly exhausted.

(Tony and Bruce and sometimes Hank McCoy had been working on pre-developing the stims that Tony had managed to get addicted to in the future, but so far, they hadn’t been able to get it just right.)

Tony mumbled something sleepy, and Bucky sighed, then lifted him up. “I got ya, princess,” he teased, holding Tony close to his chest, feeling that warm, cuddly contentment all the way to his toes. “Gonna take you up to bed before you hurt yourself.”

Tony hadn’t gone quite limp in Bucky’s arms; he had one arm slung ‘round the back of Bucky’s neck to steady himself and he was drawing lazy circles on Bucky’s pecs with one finger. There was a tenseness in Tony’s body that belied the half-sleeping pose he was projecting. His heart sped, just as Bucky nudged the elevator summons, and so Bucky wasn’t quite surprised when that wandering finger circled his nipple, or when Tony’s chocolate brown eyes opened as soon as the door closed behind them.

“Faker,” Bucky accused his husband, letting fondness seep into his tone.

“Are you complaining?” Tony wondered idly. He didn’t wait for an answer, just leaned in to lick at Bucky’s collarbone, then nipped sharply, sending a shock of heat through Bucky’s body. “Besides, I think we had some unfinished business to attend to...”

“Yes, yes we did,” Bucky said, decidedly. He tried hard not to resent Tony’s business, as Tony himself said it more than once, someone had to pay the bills around here, but it was hard (Bucky rolled his eyes at his own thoughts. _So hard_!) not to miss him, when he was gone. They’d at least learned their lesson enough that Tony took the armor with him whenever Bucky couldn’t be with him (and Bucky scared the hell out of most of Tony’s business peers and clients). “Gonna _demolish_ you.” Bucky shifted his grip until Tony was upright, legs around Bucky’s waist.

Bucky turned, pushing Tony against the wall of the elevator, mouth seeking Tony’s, eager to sample Tony’s lips.

Tony groaned and met Bucky’s mouth with his own, just as eager. His hips were already rolling against Bucky’s as his hands clutched at Bucky’s shoulders hard enough to leave small, regrettably short-lived bruises. “God, been thinking about this all damn afternoon,” Tony panted. “Boring fucking meetings, and trying to pay attention, but all I could think about was your mouth and your hands and your dick. Jesus _Christ_ , but I need you, baby.”

Bucky shuddered, unable to keep himself from rutting obscenely against Tony’s body, felt the heat of him even through their clothes, which weren’t going to last but a _second_ as soon as he got the door locked behind them. God, god, Tony was writhing against him, climbing Bucky like a goddamn tree. His mouth sealed over Tony’s, mercilessly plundering the silken cavern, tasting. The elevator opened with a soft ding, and Bucky pushed into the penthouse by muscle memory.

In the very small portion of his brain that wasn’t occupied with his armful of eager husband, Bucky considered the distance to the bedroom and decided that the chair was closer. He took two steps to the side and dropped into it, Tony ending up straddling his thighs.

Tony glanced up as they dropped, grunted understanding, and pulled Bucky’s shirt off quickly before going to work at his own buttons. Bucky would’ve preferred to just rip the thing off him, but he settled for helping, unbuttoning from the bottom up as Tony worked from the top down. Finally, the shirt was on the floor, and as Tony reached up to pull off the undershirt, Bucky surged forward to catch one of those sweet nipples and torture it. Tony gasped and fumbled off the tee, then curled his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and head, holding on for dear life.

“I gotcha, baby,” Bucky crooned, rocking Tony up, flexing his thighs to rub and press against the hot vee between Tony’s legs. He unhooked the placket to Tony’s pants, tugged at one side and let the zipper slide down as he dipped his hand inside. He leaned back to watch Tony’s face as he palmed Tony’s cock through his satin briefs. There was nothing -- _nothing_ \-- Bucky liked better than watching Tony come undone. So, so beautiful in his pleasure; all the little worried frowns and the wrinkled knot between his eyebrows let go, and he was just… utterly divine.

Tony wriggled into a more secure position, tucked as close to Bucky as the chair would allow, and then leaned back, putting his hands on Bucky’s knees for balance. “God,” he sighed, “Bucky... yes, more, _please_.” His back arched in pleasure, the curve of his body as elegant as Clint’s bow. “Come on,” he said, somewhere between begging and demanding. “Need you. Want you, honey, please...” His eyes flickered shut, then opened again to watch Bucky from under his eyelashes, unfairly sultry.

Bucky unbuttoned his jeans, heard the fabric tear as he pulled too hard on his own zipper. Shrug. He had more pants. Twisted in the chair, rubbing against Tony with entirely too much unnecessary wriggling, but that was okay, because oh, god, Tony felt so good, so eager and they were--

 _Knock. Knock knock knock._ That was the door to the kid’s floor.

 _Go away_ , Bucky’s brain snarled.

“No,” Tony whined softly, head dropping to Bucky’s shoulder. He took a couple of deep breaths, and let the last one out slow. “Maybe it’ll be something fast and easy?” He took another breath, looked down -- probably to make sure they wouldn’t be exposing themselves to whoever it was -- and lifted his head to call, “What do you want?”

Sasha pushed open the door hesitantly, then signed, hands moving gracefully. The boy had learned to talk in the last few months, but particularly when he was upset, he regressed back to non-verbal. “Jaime’s sick.”

Bucky jerked involuntarily. Which, oh, god, was probably not the best idea. “How’s he sick?” Supersoldier kids didn’t _get_ sick. One of the perks of being a superhero-parent. No flu or chickenpox or ear infections.

Sasha twisted his fingers together and stared at his feet in an agony of indecision, then finally made a spread hand, thumb near his mouth, and drew it down. Bucky blinked; that was the sign Sasha used for foods he didn’t like and anything involving his brother’s favorite TV show, _Adventure Time_. But also the original meaning--

“He threw up?”

Sasha nodded.

Tony groaned, low in his throat. “Ug, okay, we’ll... Go keep an eye on him and we’ll be right there.” He waited until Sasha had closed the door, then rested his forehead against Bucky’s. “I swear...”

“My turn t’ adult,” Bucky said. “Get some sleep, baby. Maybe we can get in a roll in the morning, yeah? You like that, little sleepy wake-up sex?” He couldn’t help pressing up against Tony, one last time, letting all his want and frustration grumble out of his throat.

“Mmm, yeah, that sounds like a good plan, babe.” Tony ducked in for a fast, hot kiss, a promise for Bucky to collect later, then slid off Bucky’s lap with another wordless whine of complaint.

Bucky let the first few words of his commands whisper in his mind, just enough to bring himself down off the edge. He couldn’t push further than that, his kids were both in awe of, and terrified by, the Winter Soldier. Just enough frost to cool himself, and then he got up, scowled at his jammed zipper, and then tugged his tee back on. He paused to watch Tony walk, the sway of his hips captivating, into the bedroom, before heading down the stairs to find out what was wrong with his son.

***

Dark and warm and sleepy, Tony floated just below the surface of waking. It was there; he could feel it waiting, but he wasn’t ready for it yet. He could feel Bucky curled around him, one arm wrapped over Tony’s waist, a foot tucked between his ankles, breath puffing against his neck, hips snug against his ass.

And mmm, that might be a reason to wake up a little more, the heat of Bucky’s length pressed against Tony’s skin, already hard, rocking just a little. Just enough to let Tony know that he was awake and ready for some action. After yesterday’s little string of cockblocks, Tony was feeling pretty ready for it, too. He swam through the sleepy lethargy to push back into Bucky’s body, to tip his head and turn it enough to see Bucky’s face when he opened one eye. “Mmm, morning, sweetheart.”

“Hey gorgeous,” Bucky answered. He was sporting some epic bedhead, long mahogany hair flat on one side and curling against his neck on the other. He nuzzled at Tony’s neck, breath stirring the fine hair at the back of Tony’s skull, sending flash-pulses of sensation across Tony’s nerves. His left hand traced a line, so soft, down Tony’s arm, across his ribs, and rested on his hip. The click of tiny, delicate plates in his fingers made an interesting counterpoint to Tony’s pulse. He licked down Tony’s spine, slithering lower into the bed with each wet, warm kiss.   

Tony hummed with interest, his entire body waking up and coming alight one bit at a time, like watching a computer boot up. He slid his fingers over Bucky’s metal ones, feeling the little plates catch against his skin, then dragged a slow line up the arm toward Bucky’s shoulder, as far as he could reach without rolling over to disturb Bucky’s progress. “And a good morning it is,” he purred, letting himself luxuriate in the electric zings of pure lust that Bucky’s mouth was pressing into him.

“God, you taste good,” Bucky rumbled. “Could jus’ eat you alive.” He made it down to the base of Tony’s spine, licking that flat triangle there, hand firm on Tony’s hip, pinning him in place. He nipped the curve of Tony’s ass and deposited a kiss on his buttcheek.

Gently, he rolled Tony over, ass up, fingers teasing at the back of his thighs, just under his ass, encouraging him to rut against the sheets. “Oh, god, I like to watch that, look at you, baby,” Bucky said, his voice hoarse with wanting.

“Look all you want,” Tony said, stretching his arms out and burying them under the pillows, “but more touching would be good, too. I’m definitely on board with more of the touching.”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky said. He sat up, smacked a light hand down on Tony’s cheek, just enough to elicit a squeak. “I’ll take care of you, babydoll.” He ran a finger down Tony’s crack. He reached across Tony with the other hand, fumbling on the bedside table and found the lube. A soft snick, and then Bucky was drawing a silicone-slick circle around his hole. “Like this, baby, you want it?”

“God, yes,” Tony said. Barely awake and already half-begging. He didn’t care; it had been too long and an even more torturous wait than usual. “Need you in me, want it _hard_.” He shivered at only the thought; he wanted to feel the ache for the whole rest of the day. And then go again tonight, maybe, too. Yeah, that would be... Mmm. He rolled his hips up, inviting more.

Bucky leaned over him, pushing and testing at the muscles there. “Tony, _yes_ ,” he growled, low and eager. “You got it…” Bucky made a soft, wanting sound as Tony clenched down on his finger. “Get up on your knees, baby, grab the headboard. I am gonna fuck you right through the mattress.”

“Oh, _god_ yes...” Tony pushed up onto his hands and knees, then groped for the headboard. It shouldn’t have been as difficult as it was, but Bucky was teasing at his opening, pushing and tugging, and _god_...

“Sir,” JARVIS said neutrally. “I have rather an urgent call for you both from Ms. Barnes.”

“We’re _busy_ , J,” Tony gritted.

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS agreed, “but she says the matter will not wait.”

“I’m gonna cry,” Bucky complained, then, “put her through, voice only.” He took a few breaths, then, “What is it, Rishka?”

“Father, Tony,” Rikki said. She didn’t sound anything other than mildly annoyed. “Ellie got a flash she thought you should know about. She says --” in the background, Ellie’s voice. Not her normal, smart-ass sarcasm, but the sleepy, almost dreamy tones of the seer “--that you shouldn’t do what you were about to do. Tony’s gonna break his wrist when the bed colla-- OH, GOD, ELLIE, _GROSS_! You didn’t tell me they were fucking. Oh, god, _oh, god_ , I’m hanging up now.” The line went dead.

“Is this a joke?” Bucky demanded of no one.

“Ellie doesn’t usually joke about her visions,” Tony pointed out reluctantly. He sat back on his heels and looked down at his hands. “I... really cannot afford a broken wrist right now.”

Bucky closed his eyes for a long moment. “Right, _right_ , okay, yeah, I… no, that’s fine, Tony, you don’t, I know.” He blew out a puff of air and then rolled to his feet, reaching for his clothes. He tamed his hair into a messy bun. “I’m… gonna go find Steve and go for a run. An’... maybe we should think about replacin’ the bed? I mighta… done some structural damage to it, or somethin’? I’ll… sorry, babe, I’ll be back soon.” He leaned over, quicklike, and pecked Tony on the mouth, before striding out of the penthouse, running shoes in one hand.

Tony watched him go sadly. “Structural damage, right. Project for today, I guess.” He flopped back down on the bed with a sigh.

The bed creaked ominously. Maybe it was for the best that they’d stopped when they did.

“Definitely the project for today.”

As if in agreement, the bed creaked again and then one side of it collapsed, rolling Tony onto the floor. The headboard wobbled for half a second and then collapsed the other way, and -- yep, if Tony had been holding it where he usually did, it would’ve trapped his hand and probably broken something.

Damn it.

***

The bedroom was obviously cursed, that was the only fucking explanation for the last two days. And the shop, his usual back-up spot for getting his husband alone and naked, was out because Jaime’s tutors had given him some fairly hefty projects and Jaime was in and out of the shop at all hours as inspiration struck.

Bucky was within an inch of stealing one of the quinjets for recreational purposes, putting it on the ceiling on autopilot and nailing Tony on the rather uncomfortable back benches. No one could accidentally walk in on them at fifty thousand feet.

He’d gone down to the shop anyway to prompt Tony into remembering that eating was a thing, following along behind his husband like a junkyard dog and feeling miserable about it, when he spotted the weapons’ locker. No one was ever in there, except Bucky when he’d lost another pistol and needed a replacement in a hurry. Everyone had their specialty weapons, designed and manufactured by Tony; these were just spares. So even if there was a call to Assemble, no one would come in there, at least.

Bucky nudged Tony, grabbing the back of his rock-and-roll tee before he got into the elevator and raised his eyebrows, tipping his chin at the door. “Wanna make a pit stop, babe?” He licked his lips, not quite meaning to, but god _damn_ he was almost in pain from wanting Tony so bad.

Tony’s eyes flicked to Bucky’s mouth, pavlovian, and then to the door. “In there?” His voice spiralled with disbelief. A second later, his brain seemed to catch up with the rest of his body, and he nodded fast. “Yeah, yes, good idea, let’s-- Oh, god, all the damn ‘blocks, I’m wound so _tight_...” He thumbed the lock and shoved the door open, all but tumbling through.

Bucky took care to lock the door behind them before pouncing on his husband, kissing frantically, biting at Tony’s mouth like he was starving. He wasn’t even being gentle, necking with Tony like they were teens at a movie, one hand already on Tony’s fly. “Wanna taste you, baby, _gotta_ , oh, let me,” he babbled. He stroked Tony a few times through his pants, feeling him up. Groaned as Tony stiffened against his palm.

Tony leaned back against the wall and spread his legs, and that was all the invitation Bucky needed. He fell to his knees and took hold of Tony’s pants--

There was a sound. At the door. Bucky froze.

“What is it?” Tony asked, whispering. His hand crept toward his watch, which had all kinds of protective toys hidden in it.

The pinwheel hatchlock spun, slow and unsteady. That shouldn’t happen; there hadn’t been an alert. Bucky reached over, his fingers searching until he found the grip of a pistol. They were usually stored loaded, unless someone had fucked up, at least. He stepped forward, letting Tony take up a shielded position behind him.

The door cracked, then opened...

A tiny person pushed into the room and slammed the door shut again, giggling.

“Zinny,” Tony said, sounding somehow both exasperated and relieved. “What are you _doing_ in here?”

Zoya turned huge, rounded eyes up at them. “Shhh!” she commanded. “Hidin’ seep!”

Bucky thumbed the safety and tucked the pistol in at the small of his back. “The door was locked,” he pointed out. Of course, _now_ one of the genius-spy-assassin-monkey-children could pick a lock. _Of course._

“Best hidin’!” Zoya proclaimed happily. “You hide too, Unca Bucky an’ Unca Tony?”

“I guess so,” Tony said drily, obediently lowering his voice for her. “Who are we playing hide-and-seek with?”

The hatch spun again and Zoya squealed, running around behind one of the archery racks, eyes wide.

Tash poked her head in the doorway. She was holding a bowl in one hand and had a fork wedged firmly in her mouth. “Zin,” she muttered around her mouthful, sighed in exasperation, and pushed the fork into a bowl of greens. “ _Not_ the weapons room, I said --” She stopped, glanced at Tony and Bucky, then her eyes went wide. Her gaze lingered on Tony’s mangled shirt, the red and purple of a rising lovebite visible against his bronze skin. She gasped, all exaggerated exasperation. “ _Yasha_! In front of my salad!” She brandished the bowl at them.

Tony’s head fell against the back of Bucky’s shoulder as he groaned. “We’re cursed,” he complained.

“Zin,” Tash said, holding out her free hand. “Come on, weapons room is off-limits. We talked about this. Let’s go before something shoots off in here.”

Bucky flushed, embarrassed, but refused to drop his gaze, even if he could think of absolutely nothing witty to say, knowing, _knowing_ , that they were going to have to endure Tash’s sly humor and snide remarks all the way through dinner, and it would be _worse_ if they actually took the time to finish anything. Heaven help both of them if they were ten minutes late for dinner at this point. As soon as the door closed pointedly behind the two red-heads, Bucky almost squashed Tony against the wall. “Not. Fair.”

“Seconded,” Tony whined. “When they talk about how hard it is to raise kids, I didn’t realize how literal that was going to be...”

***

Cursed. They were absolutely fucking _cursed_. They’d tried hiding in Bucky’s bolthole apartment, and were interrupted by a squabble between the cleaning bots, who usually remained hidden but considered the bolthole their own personal territory thanks to Bucky’s training.

They’d gone to Tony’s executive office in the SI offices -- after hours; they weren’t _animals_ \-- only to have Pepper come over the intercom to remind Tony that there were security cameras in there, and if they didn’t put their clothes back on _right now_ , she was going to destroy both of them with her bare hands.

They went to a local sci-fi convention (and were almost recognized, but played it off as being _really good_ cosplayers) and checked into the hotel, but were interrupted _four times_ by someone pulling the fire alarm as a prank, until they gave up.

Bucky even tried pulling Tony into the vents, but Clint stumbled over them.

That wasn’t even mentioning the three separate occasions when they’d been nearly all the way undressed only to have the Assemble alarm sound.

All in all, it had been more than a week since they’d managed to have sex, and if it had been a week where Tony was off on a business trip, that would’ve been manageable, but _no_ , it had been a week of _almost_ getting to have sex and then being interrupted at the last. Possible. Second. Like an entire week of edging. It was _maddening_.

Tony flopped into the (new, structurally reinforced) bed that night and almost didn’t even want to _try_. He stared at the ceiling and wondered what was going to fuck things up this time. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Kids all in bed and asleep?”

“Sleeping soundly, sir.”

“Villain activity?”

“No unusual activity at the moment.”

Tony glanced toward the bathroom, where Bucky was. “Seal all the doors and if anyone asks for us, send them somewhere else. I don’t even care where. No calls, period. I do not care if SI is on fire or Ellie sees me breaking my leg. I will _take the fucking broken leg_ if it gets me laid. And we’re not Assembling for anything smaller than the entire goddamn country at hazard. If it’s just a city, the rest of the team can handle it. You got me?”

“I understand perfectly, sir.”

Bucky came out of the bathroom, towel around his shoulders, wearing a fluffy terrycloth bathrobe that Tony had given him for Christmas one year, and he almost never actually wore, preferring, Tony thought, to showing off his chest when fresh out of the shower and tempting Tony with a towel hung low around his waist. His gaze flickered up to check Tony’s face, then back to the window with its admittedly impressive view, but not really what Tony wanted him looking at.

“Honey? Everything okay?” Bucky’s vision wasn’t as impressive as his hearing, but it was better than Tony’s.

“Do you know, statistically speakin’, that there are, globally, seventy-nine _million_ people having sex at any given minute of any given day?”

Tony considered that. “That sounds about right,” he agreed. “Want to come over here and join them?”

“Gettin’ close to th’ point where I might kill someone t’ be able to take you to bed and stay there ‘til the job’s done,” Bucky said. He was still staring out the window, however, hadn’t even twitched in Tony’s direction.

Tony got up and joined Bucky at the window, slinging his arm around Bucky’s waist and leaning into Bucky’s side as he, too, looked out over the city. “Pretty sure that would just cause _more_ interruptions, not _fewer_.” He glanced at Bucky, sighed. “If we give up, the terrorists win.”

Bucky shuddered at Tony’s touch, then pulled him closer. “Can’t have that,” Bucky said, mildly. He shifted a little, then tipped Tony’s chin up and lowered his mouth for a kiss. Soft, gentle, not demanding or rushing or anything, a tingling pressure of lips and breath and nothing more. “You know, it ain’t jus’... _that_. It’s more’n that, babe. Miss bein’ close with you. Feels like you’re half th’ world away.”

Tony nodded. “I know. Hell, it might be easier if I _was_ half the world away. But hey, I know you heard me talking to JARVIS. I’m all yours tonight. Promise.”

“I’m all yours,” Bucky said. “All th’ time. _Always_.” He sighed into Tony’s embrace, kissing him again, soft and easy. He cupped the side of Tony’s face, thumb brushing over his jaw, down his chin, urging Tony’s mouth open for him. Teased at his lip until Tony leaned forward to meet him, and still it was slow. Exquisitely gentle. Like Bucky thought Tony might dissolve into nothingness, float away on the breeze. “I ain’t so good with words, doll. An’ I love you, so much. Sometimes, this--” he ran a hand lightly over Tony’s chest “--this is the best way I know how t’ show it to you.”

It was sweet, and perfect, and unbearable. “Love you,” Tony said. “Forever, for the rest of my life, I love you. Come to bed, honey.”

Tony had never witnessed Bucky so tentative; each touch and caress was deliberate, stroking Tony’s skin, dropping soft, heated kisses, but he moved with heartbreaking caution. He kept his eyes on Tony’s face as he laid Tony back on the bed. If it wasn’t for the way his hands were shaking, the way he worried his bottom lip with his teeth, Tony might have thought he was disinterested. He nuzzled at Tony’s throat, tonguing that spot where Tony’s pulse throbbed. “God, _Tony_ ,” he murmured into Tony’s hair. “Baby, sweetheart, my life, my love.”

Tony combed his fingers through Bucky’s hair, trying to soothe whatever strange mood had gotten under Bucky’s skin. “I’m here,” he promised, “right here, just for you.” He took Bucky’s hand and laid it over his heart, pressing it down to feel each beat. “Just for you, but god... Touch me, Bucky. Need you to love me now.”

Bucky’s chin snapped up at that, and he looked at Tony with such an expression of longing that it made his throat go dry. “Oh, _Tony_ ,” and that came out choked and stricken, before Bucky kissed him, hard and wet, with a touch of wildness to him that got more aggressive as Tony opened up to him. His hands were everywhere, fingers tangling in Tony’s hair and tugging his head back to expose his throat, the metal fingers dancing down Tony’s side. With two fingers, so gentle, barely moving, Bucky stroked down the line of Tony’s cock, the polished metal slick and cool against his skin.

Tony arched into it with a gasp, letting Bucky move him wherever and however Bucky wanted him. Bucky was like a force of nature, unstoppable and uncontrollable. And yet if Tony breathed a word of complaint, Bucky would stop. Tony had no doubt at all of that. It was a heady sense of power.

Not that he wanted any of it to stop. He was desperate for every touch, every taste, every sensation. “My soldier,” he whispered. “Yes.”

Bucky made a high, reedy, needy sound in his throat. He shucked himself out of the bathrobe, let as much of his skin touch Tony’s as possible. Then slithered down the length of Tony’s body, spread his legs to make room, paused to savor the moment, mouth mere millimeters away from Tony dick, waited. Watching Tony’s face intently. “Bucky, yes?” He lowered his mouth a fraction, lips opening.

Tony shuddered. “Bucky, _more_ ,” he begged, fighting to lift his hips, to twist them, _anything_. “ _Please_.”

Bucky waited just a little longer, eyes sparkling with delight, then…

He opened his mouth and took Tony in, all the way to the base in one slick, wet pull, tongue working in brushing strokes as he went. When he had Tony all the way back, his throat pulsed as he swallowed, sucking his cheeks in. He twisted his chin from side to side, giving Tony friction and brilliant sensation, then pulled back and almost off before sliding back down. His lips were a tight ring over Tony’s dick and Bucky’s tongue was sweet, aching torment.

Oh, _god_. “So good, Bucky, _oh_... Fuck, I’m not going to last...” He’d been too keyed up for too long to let any kind of tease slow him down. “Bucky, baby, honey, you are a goddamned _miracle_.”

Bucky slid back, reluctantly. He licked once, then again, at the sensitive crown. “Can’t have that, baby, you gotta wait for me.” He glanced down and then groaned at the sight, Tony’s dick quivering and glistening. Tasted it again, like he couldn’t resist.

A soft whimper slid out of Tony’s throat, but he couldn’t disagree. It was always best if they came together. Which did not stop him from bucking up into each lingering, careful touch in search of friction and heat.

He managed to pull himself together enough to twist around to reach for the drawer in the nightstand with the lube. “Fastest prep ever,” he suggested, tossing the bottle down the bed. “I want to feel every bit of you.”

Bucky gave Tony a Look, with a capital L. “You know I ain’t gonna take th’ risk in hurtin’ you, Tony,” he said. He wet his fingers, slid his hand between Tony’s legs to tease and circle him, which, if Bucky was going to lecture him, at least he wasn’t leaving Tony hanging while he was doing it, and Tony could ignore the scowl Bucky was giving him as he twisted and wriggled, trying to move Bucky faster, harder, now now now--

Oh Christ-- Bucky slid one finger in, crooked it and stroked along Tony’s prostate, once, twice, three… oh, god, practically _tortured_ it, rubbing and pressing, but just one finger… used his thumb to tease at Tony’s rim. “I got you, Tony, baby, relax, honey, I got you…”

“This is not a relaxing situation,” Tony shot back. “Come on, I just... God, I need you so bad, Bucky, _please_. I know you love to make me squirm but-- _fuck!_ \--I’m begging, I just need you in me, come on...”

“I need you,” Bucky said. He added a second finger, scissored them, watching as Tony twisted, hissed at the pressure. “Need you so bad, want you so much. Want you t’ open up for me, there we go, yeah, like that, baby. It’s good, it’s good, I’m gonna give you what you need. There you are, baby.” He tugged, light, against the rim, then pulled his fingers out. Lubed himself and lined up. “Oh, god…” Pressed the head of his cock in. “I got you, Tony. Bring me home.”

“Come on, honey,” Tony urged, rocking his hips up, pulling Bucky in closer. “Want all of you, every inch, as deep as you can go.” It ached in the best way, that slow slide in. It was almost the same way his heart ached on those rare occasions that he woke up and Bucky was still asleep and he could watch through those quiet moments. God, but he loved Bucky. “Love you,” he said, panting and wrapping his leg over Bucky’s hip. “My soldier. Come on home.”

Bucky groaned, straining, and his metal hand came up to push at Tony’s thigh, spreading him wider. The plate shifted, a sharp pinch, and then heat spread from the bruise as Bucky switched his grip. And then Bucky buried himself in Tony’s body, thrust in all the way to the hilt, demanding and urgent and perfectly imperfect. “Oh… _god_.” Bucky leaned in, tucked his face against Tony’s throat.  

“Yes,” Tony moaned, wrapping his arms and legs around Bucky. “Give it to me, honey. Give it to me good, I need you.” It felt so _good_ , like part of him had been missing and was returned. And he still wasn’t going to last.

Bucky rocked him, pushing deeper. He lifted himself up, hands on either side of Tony’s head and ploughed into Tony, spine seemingly as flexible as a snake’s. “Look at me, baby, lemme see you,” Bucky pleaded. And oh, god, it was hard to keep his eyes open while Bucky was doing such delicious things to his body, but at the same time -- once he met Bucky’s eyes, near black with desire -- he couldn’t look away. “There you are… come on, baby, touch yourself, so close, I’m… oh, christ, _fuck_ , Tony, you’re so…”

Tony thought he was going to come the instant he touched his dick, but he managed to keep it together, barely. He stroked himself nice and easy, maybe every three of Bucky’s thrusts, not wanting it over yet. “You feel good, honey? Tell me how much you like it.” Bucky had a bit of a love-hate relationship with talking in specifics during sex; pushing that button was either going to speed things up or slow them down, and either way, it was a winner for Tony.

Bucky shivered, and the movement did interesting things to the place they were joined together. “Yeah, you always wanna hear about it,” he growled, “you want me t’ tell you how warm you are, how slick and tight ‘round me. The way you move, god, you make me th’ best kinda crazy, like I’m an inch from touchin’ eternity. Everythin’, everything you do, makes me wild. I c’n barely keep my hands off you, an’ I...god, need you so bad, Tony. God, so perfect, look at you, god, how you take me, how much you want it.” He was murmuring in Tony’s ear, praise and worship and needy and eager, telling Tony how sweet he was, how good it felt, how every little twitch and flex was translated directly into his cock, his balls, how soft Tony’s skin was, how good he smelled. “Baby, you’re th’ best thing I ever touched, can’t believe, sometimes, that you let me.”

Tony almost laughed at that. “We’ve been together for more than five years, sweetheart. You’re going to have to believe it eventually.” He nuzzled up under Bucky’s jaw to leave the sharp little bites that made Bucky shudder with sensation. “Mm, love it when I get you to talk dirty for me. S’when I know you’re wound up nice and tight.” He moved his hand faster, matching Bucky’s rhythm. God, he wanted to come; he could feel it building right at the base of his spine.

Bucky’s arm slipped under Tony’s back, yanking him down, pinning him in place as Bucky slammed home. The intense, focused expression faded as Bucky got closer to his own release, until he was almost sleepy-looking, eyes half-lidded, breath speeding. “Tony, oh, god, you feel so damned good, I… you unravel me. Oh, god, Tony, Tony, come on, I’m…” Bucky threw his head back, his hips moving reflexively, working in Tony with abandon.

“Yeah, honey, let it go, come on, I’m...” Tony’s breathing was getting rough and raw, and electricity built in his balls. He was going to come, any second, just one... more... push-- The world dissolved into fire, and he was pretty sure he yelled something. Maybe Bucky’s name, maybe just nonsense. Didn’t matter, didn’t matter, not with the way his bones were turning hot and liquid, oh god, it felt so good…

Tony’d been flattened by his supersoldier before; at least the newer mattress was somewhat softer, so he could still breathe. “Oh, god, Tony,” Bucky managed. “ _Christ_.” He heaved a few deep, almost sobbing gasps before he shifted his weight. He rolled off and sprawled out, taking up more than his fair share of mattress. He kissed Tony’s forehead.

“Fuck, I needed that,” Tony sighed. “I love you.” He didn’t really want to move at all, but he groped around enough to hook his ankle under Bucky’s leg.

“Needed you,” Bucky said. “I was this far--” he held out his finger and thumb about an inch apart “-- from spontaneously combusting.”

***

Steve was leaning against the fridge, arms crossed over his massive chest with his very best Your Captain is Disappointed in You look plastered across his face.

Bucky stopped dead. Tony was following so close behind, their hands twined together, that he actually ran into Bucky’s back.

“What th-- Oh, hey, Cap. What’s... with the face?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. He knew they’d told JARVIS not to interrupt them, but surely if there’d been an assemble call, J would have said _something_. Which meant that Bucky had no idea why Steve was looking at them like he was getting ready to chew steel and spit staples. And assign them both to KP or something.

Steve unfolded his arms. “I’m interested in your explanation for this,” he said shortly. “Pepper is going to stomp on us with _cleats_ for the bad PR.”

Bucky actually turned and looked behind him, to see if someone else -- Clint, for instance -- might be following, and therefore a better receptacle for Steve’s anger. “Um, what’s _this_?”

From his back pocket, Steve withdrew a folded piece of newsprint. He flattened it carefully, then slammed it down on the kitchen table. “This.”

Bucky took a few more steps into the kitchen to look.

Oh.

_Oh, crap._

Tony leaned around Bucky’s arm to look as well. “Oh. Well, crap.”

The article itself was wild speculation, headline coyly suggesting that the Winter Soldier was cheating on his meal-ticket husband and had dodged out of sight when Iron Man returned unexpectedly.

But there was Bucky, on the front damn page, buck-assed naked on the Avengers Tower landy gantry, backed up against the door to the penthouse -- from a week ago, when Jaime’d chased him outside in a hurry. Those telephoto lenses were pretty damn good, too, because it wasn’t a grainy, fuzzy image, either, but rather high-def. He was high-stepping into his shorts, one leg bent to shove his foot through the leg hole, body facing the camera while he looked back over his shoulder. The metal arm particularly stood out.

Tony, all but immune to Steve’s face, hummed thoughtfully and said with an audible leer, “At least they got your good side.”

They’d pixilated out his dick, at least, for the front page, but Bucky would be willing to bet that somewhere, some paparazzi had the full monty. Which meant that either some yellow journalist was going to be coming to Tony with a hand out for a big payout, or Bucky’s erection was going to end up all over the internet.

Tony chortled, pointing at the caption. _It’s going to be a long winter._


End file.
